


Sweet Creature

by imaginaryfriendss



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Charles You Slut, Cherik - Freeform, Erik has questionable morals, Fluff, M/M, Rating May Change, Underage Smoking, charles is 15 erik is 32 so be warned its a bit of a dead dove do not eat situation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginaryfriendss/pseuds/imaginaryfriendss
Summary: Charles is Erik's fifteen-year-old neighbour. The boy is also a relentless flirt.





	1. 1

"Did anyone ever tell you that those things are bad for you?"  
Erik was so startled by the voice coming from next to him that he nearly dropped his cigarette. "Excuse me?"  
"You smoke a whole lot. I walk by twice a day and you're almost always out here with a cigarette. Don't you know they give you cancer?"  
Erik, who had barely spoken to anyone save for the cashier at Walmart for the past five weeks since he moved to the city, was at a complete loss for words at this boy, surely not older than sixteen, private school uniform and all, whom he'd never seen in his life. Erik stared blankly, trying to intimidate the boy into leaving up the apartment complex staircase. However, undeterred, the boy relentlessly tried to keep the interaction going by asking for one of Erik's cigarettes. The older man could barely stifle a scoff. "As if," He said. "How old are you, even? Sixteen?"  
"I'm seventeen."  
Erik stared at the boy, imploring some truth from him.  
"Fine, I'm sixteen," he said, although there was a lack of confidence that Erik picked up on. Before he had the chance to press, the boy confessed. "In July."  
"So you're fifteen and a half?"  
"Yes. Happy? That's the truth. I suppose you won't be giving me a cigarette then? Because if so I should get going,"  
Erik had moved to New York for one reason: solitude. He wanted to be somewhere where he knew no one and no one knew him. They had nothing to hold against him. He didn't want any kind of reputation. He moved to the city so that he could live without company. But now, looking at this boy, skinny, several inches under six feet, and seventeen years younger than himself, he thought he may not mind some conversation.  
"Tell you what," he said, leaning against the building wall to face the boy, "I'll give you two if you stay and talk."  
"Deal." A grin lit up the boy's face so vibrant that it almost washed away the nagging guilt in Erik's conscience. Erik asked the boy's name as he felt around in his pockets for the pack of cigarettes and his lighter.  
"Charles. You?"  
"Ha. Of course it's Charles. I'm Erik."  
Charles narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'of course it’s Charles'?"  
"Well, between your accent and that blazer, you for sure look like a Charles." Erik paused as he held up a cigarette in front of Charles' eyes. Charles just looked at it, and taking the hint, Erik placed it in between the boy's lips and sparked it up.  
"You don't look like an Erik." The older man raised an eyebrow at this. "What do I look like?"  
Charles blew out a puff of smoke. Erik watched his shoulders relax and his foot stop tapping incessantly. "I don't know. Like a dad name would suit you better. Like, I don't know, Robert. Stewart. Michael."  
"Right," Erik was bemused by all of this. The way Charles spoke endeared him. It was strange to hear what was presumably a mix of British eloquence and the vocabulary habits a teen is bound to pick up living in Manhattan.  
They spoke till they had both finished their cigarettes, Charles clearly taking it slow on the second one, trying almost desperately to prolong their chat. They kept on making small talk, slowly finding things out about each other. Erik learnt that Charles went to St. Joseph's Collegiate Institute, a Catholic all-boy's prep school. He also learnt that Charles had gotten used to walking past Erik just outside of the courtyard of the apartment building they both lived in, twice a day, in the morning and afternoon. Somehow Erik had failed to ever really notice the boy. Or rather, allowed himself to notice the boy. His hair, ruffled and messy in the mornings, his pants, long, grey and tight around his legs and ass. His eyes, icy blue. All of this had managed to slip Erik's attention until it was all forced right into his line of sight.  
Charles realised to his own dismay that he was burning his fingertips and finally put out the cigarette. "I guess I'll be on my way then."  
"Yeah, I guess you will."  
"I don't suppose you're on your way up?" Erik didn't exactly know what to make of that question. It felt almost like an invitation. One he, although tempted, wasn't quite sure he wanted to accept just yet. He told Charles no, he had some grocery shopping to do. Which was true, anyway.  
"Alright then. See you around, Erik," Charles said, pairing it with a sly smile and some eye contact that surely seemed prolonged.


	2. 2

“Charles, you’re like, half an hour late,”  
“Am I?”  
Raven was waiting for her brother, standing at the kitchen bench with her science homework. “Yes. The fuck were you doing?”  
Raven, newly thirteen, had recently discovered that she could actually swear with little to no repercussions. She was utilizing this to unnecessary extremes.  
“I must have gotten distracted. I don’t know.”  
“Fine, if you don’t wanna tell me. God, you smell awful. Like cigarettes. Charles, that’s gross!”  
“Whatever. Do you want help with your homework or not?”  
Back on the third floor, Erik was heating up a microwave lasagna and contemplating his Friday night plans. Lately he’d been going out to bars on weekends, finding nice legal boys and taking them home, but for some reason that idea didn’t enthrall him so much as it had last week. Something was stopping him, and he was disgusted with himself to think what. Or rather, who.  
Charles.  
Fifteen year old, private-school-uniform-wearing, coughing through a cigarette, trying to seem older, observant and enticing Charles. The boy’s voice kept ringing around like bells in his mind. His sophisticated words. He must do well in school, Erik thought. He was willing to bet that the teachers liked him, at least.  
Erik ended up staying in that weekend. In fact, he basically holed himself up in his apartment that whole weekend. He watched porn, and Netflix, and paid some bills, and tried just about everything to keep his mind off Charles. That next Monday he avoided his usual smoking spot before work. And he found himself rushing past on his way home. The week went on like this, and although Erik found it unnatural to hang out of his bathroom window to have his cigarettes, he made do. He thought it was best to avoid the forbidden fruit.  
This plan proved successful for three whole days, until Thursday, when it all fell apart slightly. It began when Erik slipped up, slept through his alarm and found himself behind the schedule of his morning routine. This meant his effort to rush out of the building before Charles was futile. He ran into the boy looking disheveled and though he would never admit it himself, flustered. Flustered by a teenager, half his age. Jesus.  
Before Charles could say a proper greeting, Erik bolted off without so much as a ‘hello’. Charles tried to call after him, but elicited no response.  
By the afternoon, Erik thought he was in the clear. He stayed at work late and then went grocery shopping to make sure Charles had ample time to already be in his own apartment. However, as Erik reached the top of the staircase to the third floor, he noticed the figure leaning against the door of apartment 319. A skinny, blazer-wearing figure with messy hair.  
“Charles.”  
“Erik! Fancy seeing you here,”  
“This is my apartment, Charles,”  
“Really? I had no idea.”  
“So you just chose any old apartment to loiter in front of?”  
“Alright, you figured me out. I thought you might want company. Haven’t seen you around an awful lot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me,”  
Charles said this with humour, but Erik could sense the slight disappointment in Charles’ words. Erik felt a pang of guilt at the idea of making the boy upset.  
"Okay, fine, come in."  
Erik knew these were dangerous words as soon as he said them. But it was worth it when Charles beamed up at him and followed him inside the apartment.  
Charles was looking at everything quite intently, gathering up all the information he could. Like he was able to determine everything about Erik from his choice of ottoman. Erik offered him a coffee, since there was a pot still on the bench from the morning. Charles declined.  
“Cigarette?”  
“Sure.”  
Erik showed Charles to the balcony where he lit up a cigarette for himself and placed one on the table for Charles. The boy was clearly disappointed by that gesture. He made a point of playing around with the cigarette between his lips to compensate.  
“Erik?”  
“Yes?”  
“I know why you’ve been avoiding me. It’d be a bit daft if you kept it up, to be honest.” Erik froze up slightly. He didn’t need this. But Charles couldn’t take a hint, or just chose not to, and leant in a little bit.  
“You like me.”  
Erik went quiet for a moment. He decided to play dumb. “I liked talking to you. You seem smart.”  
“Well, thanks, but you know that’s not what I meant.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid,”  
Charles leant in even closer, so he could soften his voice to barely a whisper.  
“Yes you do.”  
Rather than try and use his words to escape the corner he'd been backed into, Erik cast his eyes down. His gaze trickled down away from those pretty blue eyes, past Charles' loose collar with the top button undone, down to the slender hands with the cigarette between two fingers. Charles placed one of his feet on top of one of Erik's under the table. An innocent enough action, but it still sent shockwaves through Erik's whole body.  
"Don't," the man mustered out in warning.  
"Don't, what?" Charles began to run two fingers up and down Erik's forearm. "Don't touch you? Don't lean in any closer?"  
"Just don't."  
"Then stop me."  
No fifteen-year-old boy's mouth should taste like a mix of chocolate, blood, and tobacco smoke. Then again, no grown man should have that information in the first place. These were the main thoughts rattling through Erik's brain as Charles pushed himself up to close the space between himself and Erik. As he snaked a hand around Erik's neck, Charles became painstakingly aware of the table between them. Simultaneously, Erik became acutely aware of the fact that they were basically on display for the whole of New York City.  
“C’mon,” Erik muttered. He grabbed Charles’ wrist tight and all but dragged him through the sliding doors, finally falling backwards onto the couch and pulling Charles down with him. The younger boy adjusted himself so that his legs were either side of Erik’s thighs, effectively straddling the man. Once again, Erik was captured in an eager kiss. The kind of kiss that felt too sweet to be real.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so i'm really just writing this for fun-- i'd love to hear where you want it to go. also i'd love requests and prompts for other cherik fics!!

“Charles, go home. I bet someone’s worried sick about you right now,”  
Eventually, kissing had turned back to talking. Then back to kissing. All up, around two hours passed by before Erik realized he was probably keeping this kid from a nice dinner, or a worried mother.  
“Well, seeing as it’s about five a.m. in Shanghai right about now, I can’t imagine Mother is sparing a thought for me at the moment,”  
“What?”  
“My parents, they travel. For work,”  
“Jesus, then who takes care of you?”  
“The nanny does her best. She probably thinks I’m at Hank’s right now. In fact… I’m sure she wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up staying the night,” Charles smirked a little at his suggestion. Although tempting, this wasn’t on Erik’s agenda.  
“No,” he stated firmly, “Go home. I’ll be around tomorrow.”  
“Fine. Whatever. Just let me put your number in my phone,”  
Erik didn’t give that a second thought. He sent himself a text through Charles’ phone, which was clearly fancier and more expensive than his own. Charles then flung his arms around the taller man’s shoulders. It had been a long time since Erik’s skin had tingled like that from the touch of another person’s breath.  
As Charles walked out the door, he looked back and said, “Bye, Erik,” with a mischievous smile.  
“Later.”

That morning, Erik woke up painfully aware of the empty spaces in his apartment. The table out on on the balcony. The couch. The whole left side of his bed. Empty. He rushed through his morning routine and was outside the apartment building for his pre-work cigarette earlier than usual, planning to catch Charles on his way out. As soon as he saw a flash of messy brown hair he tugged his boy by the sleeve of his blazer, pulling him backwards so that they were secluded behind a fence. Somehow, Charles didn’t look startled in the slightest—bemused, if anything. Certainly welcoming of the surprise.  
“Hi,” the boy said, smiling warmly.  
“Hello.” Erik didn’t want to waste any more time on greetings, and promptly smashed his lips against Charles’. Encouraged by the breathy gasp Charles let out, he let one hand lay against the boy’s cheek and began to kiss down his jaw, soon reaching his neck.  
Charles was on his tiptoes, accommodating for Erik’s height. He was dizzied by the sensation of Erik’s mouth against his skin. He began to feel more pressure in the places Erik was sucking on his throat, and realized he was being covered in hickeys.  
“O-oh my God, Erik, stop,” Charles said lightly.  
“What?” Erik looked at Charles with a mix of lust and genuine concern. “Are you okay?”  
“I can’t have a bunch of hickeys. I’m about to go to school.”  
Still slightly dazed, Erik stroked his fingers over the marks he had made on Charles.  
“Yep, right, good job. Proud of your work, are you?”  
Erik could tell when he was being sassed. He just smiled fondly and stepped back. “We both have somewhere to be, darling. I’ll see you later.”


End file.
